Past Memories
by KColl2003
Summary: Post NFA Spike has to deliver a message. Complete.


THE CHALLENGE:  
First character: Connor  
Second character: Spike  
Challenge: Future fic (how far is up to you) The good guys have someone won the day after NFA, Spike has to tell Connor at least one story about Angel that the vampire wouldnâ₢?t want his son to know about

THE PREFERENCES:  
Slash or no slash: No slash.  
How high a rating can the author write: R (unless thereâ₢?s a female youâ₢?d like to include then anything you want)  
What genre(s) can the author choose to write this in: go nuts. Whatever you want just no pwp but since slash isnâ₢?t an option I doubt thereâ₢?s much fear of this.

THE ADDITIONS:  
Third character: Illyria  
Quote: "After God, long live wine." - Rosalia de Castro  
Song: "Watching You" by Velvet Chain (http:www.azlyrics.us/printable.php?id275199)  
Object: Miss Edith  
Episode: "Destiny" (A:tS)

"This is bloody bollocks!" Spike slammed his fist into the car stereo, mangling it. The violent action did nothing to ease his temper. "And I'll tell you another soddin' thing," he took a sip of his beer. Not liking the taste, he flung it out of the window. He watched the can bounce across the road before opening another. "The Clash, the Sex Pistols, the Ramones, they were real bands, not this Velvet Chain bollocks!"

"Should one drink and drive?" queried his passenger. "My guide claimed that such a mixture was unwise."

Spike glared at Illyria. "Yeah? Well Wes was a bloody girly-man," he spat.

He instantly regretted his words. There was nothing unmanly about Wes, or the others. He remembered how Gunn had severed the head of a Canorva Warlord twice his size with his dying blow. How had Angel has Sanshued as he tore the head off the dragon only to die in the next second, ripped apart by the beast's mate. They'd only survived because the Slayer army had turned up to save them. But him and Buffy were over, the fact she couldn't be bothered turning up until too late had ended it for him. But he had one last duty to perform.

"You stink of grief."

Spike decided not to answer the accusation knowing it was the truth. Things had been so much easier without his soul. Murder, torture, and rape without a second thought, now that had been the way to unlive. Instead he was stuck with an empty feeling that threatened to envelop him. "Should you drink so much?"

He rolled his eyes. Nag, bloody nag, it was getting like he married to the soddin' smurf. "After God, long live wine."

"That is beer, not the drink of the grape."

"It's a saying luv. From a poem by a poet called Rosalia de Castro." When Dru had been attempting to drive him batty talking to that Miss Edith of hers, he'd grab a book and read, his protection against her insanity. "Means alcohol offers comfort when one's in a mood." Illyria nodded slowly before taking a can and opening it. "Hey!"

"I have need for comfort," the goddess announced.

Spike silently counted to five before speaking. "Fine, but you don't take a bloke's beer without asking luv, it's rude. Oh soddin' hell!" he realised that they'd just passed the address they'd come to visit. Muttering curses under his breath, he pulled up and leapt out. He groaned when Illyria followed suit. "What are you doing luv?"

"You are my new guide."

Spike opened his mouth then shut it. "Follow me." After crossing the road, he banged on the front door. Seconds later, the door swung open. "Right whelp," he swallowed, right now he wished he was the one who'd died. "Gonna let me in?"

* * *

"He's dead?" Connor looked up at his guests, his heart breaking, feeling more alone than he'd ever felt. "That can't be, he can't be?" 

"He died a champion's death," intoned Illyria.

"Tell me something about him, something from his past," he pleaded, he had to learn more about his father.

"Alright," the peroxide-blonde vampire sat deep in thought for a minute before speaking. "Right, we were in Rome, back in the bad old days, when your pa was all fangy," the demon looked briefly misty-eyed before continuing. "1894 it was, your pa had been captured by this arse by the name of the Immortal. So I roll into town, rescue him and then we go back to where we'd been holed up." The cockney vampire took a sip of his beer before continuing. "Trouble was when we got back, the stench of the Immortal was all over the place, and your dear old mum had been indiscreet with him. Dear old dad gets his gander up and goes after the arse, but gets his own arse kicked, would have been staked if I hadn't turned up."

Connor chuckled at the story, he sensed the vampire hadn't told him the whole story, but it was amusing nonetheless. "My dad had a lot to make up for didn't he?" Connor commented. Spike nodded. Connor stood. "Then I think it's time for Angel Investigations, the next generation," the demon opened his mouth. "With or without you Spike."

"Oh bollocks," the vampire groaned. "I can't believe I'm saddling myself with another generation of brooding pillocks. I'm in."

Illyria stood. "A worthy cause. There are many demons to dismember."

Connor looked at the blue-haired goddess. "Let's not put that on the business cards right?"


End file.
